


After Hours

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Office Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sexual Content, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: After hours, Hermione has a different sort of meeting with Draco Malfoy. PWP.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 26
Kudos: 517





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is just a quick smut-shot to placate my recently disgruntled muse. Literally, it's just sex. I hope you enjoy if that's your thing!
> 
> Tags/Content Warnings: Office sex, spanking, partially clothed sex.
> 
> A huge thanks to LadyKenz347 who gave this little piece a quick pre-read and assured me it was alright to post, and for creating a story aesthetic!

* * *

A slow knock sounded on the open door frame and Hermione glanced up from a report she'd been reviewing. Draco Malfoy lingered in the threshold, hair loose in his eyes and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing smooth, pale forearms.

Returning to her work, she mused, "Is it already time for our five o'clock meeting?"

"I might be a bit early," he returned, grey eyes flashing when she looked up again. "I'll wait if you aren't ready."

"Just a few minutes," Hermione clipped with a thin press of her lips, eyes dropping once more to her report. Rising to her feet, she murmured, "Anything interesting happening in Magical Transportation?"

"Oh, you know," Draco drawled, pressing the door shut behind him, "bland as ever."

A huff of amusement escaped her lips. "I could say the same about Magical Creatures."

He lingered near the door, observing a diagram on the wall as he loosened the knot of his tie, long fingers deft and sure, and Hermione felt her stare drawn towards him, the parchment wrinkling with the tightening of her grip.

Hermione could see the smirk tug at his lips, even as he slipped free the top button of his oxford.

"I can't say that's surprising," he mused, removing his tie the rest of the way and coiling the charcoal silk into a circle. Stepping closer towards her desk, Draco set the tie down and lazily flicked through some of her paperwork. When his eyes snapped up to meet hers, they were darkened. "Are you nearly through?"

"Nearly," Hermione returned, her mouth dry and voice breathier than she'd intended.

Draco walked around behind her, peering over her shoulder.

Close to her ear, he murmured, "That looks incredibly dry." The soft timbre of his voice chased through her and settled somewhere near the pit of her stomach.

She could feel the warmth radiating from his chest, the low rumble of his laugh when she agreed, "It _is_."

Reaching around her, he plucked the report from her fingers, tossing it carelessly to the desk. When she released an irritable huff, turning her head to the side to face him, Hermione swallowed at the challenge that shone in his stare.

"Finish it tomorrow."

His words lingered somewhere between a question and a statement, without fully being either. Regardless, Hermione found herself swallowing as Draco's fingers danced along her shoulder, trailing almost absently along her collarbone and dipping between the gap of her blouse, the rough pads of his fingers raising tantalising goosebumps on her flesh.

Breath quickening and eyes fluttering, she shifted back towards him, not entirely of her own volition. The muscles of his chest were hard against her shoulder, his breath warm near her ear.

Belatedly, she managed a soft, "Yes, tomorrow."

"Good girl," he growled, the tip of his nose grazing the shell of her ear. He plucked the next button of her blouse free, as he snagged her earlobe between his teeth, sending a desirous shiver chasing down her spine as her back arched away from him, her eyes fluttering shut.

At odds with his gentle ministrations, his other hand palmed her breast through her shirt, and a soft groan escaped his lips.

"Tell me, Granger." The way her surname rolled from his tongue in a low, sensual drawl ignited everything within her. His hand kneaded her breast, his thumb grazing her peaked nipple as his other hand continued to tease the flesh of her sternum. "What are your knickers like?"

He slipped the next button of her shirt, revealing the lace of her bra cups. He hummed against her ear, waiting, as he freed the remaining buttons of her shirt, tugging the hem free from her skirt.

"Green," she breathed, a smile tugging at her lips as she shifted her arse back against him.

A heavy exhalation of breath. "Silk?"

"Lace."

"Fucking _Merlin_."

His palm slipped inside the cup of her bra, as the other slid down to her hip, inching the bottom of her skirt slowly up along the curve of her arse. He tweaked her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, freeing a soft whimper from her.

Reaching a hand back, Hermione curled her fingers in the fabric of his trousers, clenching the thick muscle of his leg even as he pressed himself against her, the warmth of his arousal hard against her arse.

Groaning, she breathed, "You?"

" _My_ knickers?" She could hear the smirk on his voice, and a surprised laugh melted into a gasp as he roughly clutched a handful of her arse. "Can't say I'm wearing any."

Still, his other hand carried on with its meticulous, persistent teasing, plucking and tugging at her nipple before shifting to the other side. Heat pooled between her legs at his patient touches.

Draco Malfoy was a study in the unexpected, Hermione had come to realise since the first time they had tumbled over the precipice between them and been intimate, one evening in her office, some six months ago.

She never knew what sort of mood he would be in, or how the subtleties between them might shift. It only served to heighten the experience, every time they met.

Although she had often considered the ramifications of the situation, she found him irresistible; in a world where she dealt in absolutes, her arrangement with Draco was all grey.

His lips brushed her earlobe, grazing a trail along her jaw towards her mouth, and Hermione turned her face towards him, her lips seeking his. Heat flared through her at his kiss, the give and take of his lips and tongue seeking hers. Reaching back to thread her fingers through his fine hair, she leaned into him, losing herself in the kiss.

As his touch grew needy, more desirous, he reached for her hair tie, releasing it from its high bun in a chaotic flurry of curls. With a low growl—he'd made no secret of his fondness for her wild hair—he grasped a handful of her curls, pulling just hard enough to sting as he latched his lips onto her throat.

Her heart slammed in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins as every touch heightened her awareness of him—in all the ways he'd learned she liked.

The past six months, as things between them had shifted and evolved, had been an exploration of boundaries and desire. For Hermione, it had been a matter of taking control—and giving it up.

Considering they rarely spoke beyond the safe, silent confines of one of their offices, they'd found a reciprocal ease through communication with one another. Her time with him had become a way to learn and experience her own sexuality.

Turning to face him, and meeting the dark grey of his irises, the teasing, enticing quality of his smirk, she dropped her fingers to the buttons of his shirt. He watched, indolent, his eyes tracking the movements of her fingers as she slipped each button from its hole, pushing the rich fabric from his well defined shoulders.

No longer was Draco thin and angular, his muscles having filled out, and the light smattering of hair along his abdomen drew her gaze downward between the sharp cut of his hips.

He continued to stare at her for a long, drawn out moment, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. Always, in the intense depths of his stare, he made her feel wanted. So many years after he had belittled her as youths in school, the ways he coveted her made her feel powerful.

Hermione took her time with his belt buckle, slipping the leather free of its loops. She allowed herself a moment to observe the way his trousers hung from his hips before she released the closure of his trousers.

Lips curling with surprise, she murmured when her fingers met bare flesh, "You weren't joking."

"Told you," he returned, a delicate hint of a smirk on his own. "No knickers."

He lifted a hand, tugging her shirt free of her shoulders and taking his time in dragging the sleeves down her arms, raising gooseflesh along her forearms with the gentle brush of his fingers.

Taking his hardened cock in her palm, Hermione gave it several strokes, enjoying the colour in his cheeks and the widening of his pupils as his eyes locked on hers. His lips parted with a sharp intake of breath, chin dropping as he gazed at her in a way that caused all of her nerve endings to flare to life.

Eyes heavily-lidded, a flash of something danced across his face, and in a moment he spun her, his front against her back once more, and pressed her up against the desk, yanking the hem of her skirt up around her arse.

The palm of his hand grabbed her arse, kneading the skin, as his other hand gently maneuvered her down towards the surface of the desk. With a glance over her shoulder, she caught his eye, gently pushing back into his palm.

The glint in his eye sent desire jolting through her core as his hand came down on her arse with a gentle sting, eliciting a cry from her throat. Instantly, his hand soothed the bite, and Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip.

It was one of the things Hermione had learned she enjoyed in relinquishing control.

In a strange turn, she had come to trust him in ways she had never done before with other partners.

Again, his hand came down with a swat, before again rubbing away the sting. She felt delirious with anticipation, burying her face in her arms with a low groan.

Draco snickered, one hand still idly worshipping the skin of her arse as he bent and slipped the other beneath her skirt, dragging the waistband of her knickers free. She could hear his hum of satisfaction; she'd selected her knickers that morning knowing they would meet later.

"An excellent choice," he murmured, his lips grazing her hip and then the back of her thigh as he slipped the knickers down her legs with an almost cautious reverence. Hermione watched sidelong as he took his time, her body thrumming with desire, but fully aware that teasing her was half the fun for him.

Standing upright once more and gripping the curve of her hip, he slipped two fingers between her legs, letting out a soft groan when he found her prepared for him. She could feel the hardness of his erection graze her arse, and reached a hand back, coiling her fingers along his length.

With a muttered curse, Draco dragged his fingers through her juices, making languid circles around her clit before dipping them inside of her, coaxing a cry from her lips.

"Malfoy," she ground through her teeth as he set a slow, teasing rhythm inside of her.

He ducked in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, with a taunting, " _Granger_."

But he withdrew his fingers, wrapping his hand around hers where she held onto him, and she released her hold, feeling his lips brush against her cheekbone as he aligned himself with her entrance, moments before he thrust into her in one swift movement.

Hermione released a cry, pleasure tingling in her nerves at the feel of him inside of her. She could feel the heat of his breath against her ear; he nipped her earlobe before leaning back, taking hold of her hips.

Withdrawing slowly, he slammed back into her. Supporting herself on her arms and gripping the edges of the desk, her eyes slid shut as she bit down hard on her bottom lip.

With each thrust, jolts of desire chased through her mingled with raw, carnal pleasure. His grip on her as he held her in place was hard enough to draw bruises on the surface of her skin, but as he drove into her, escalating in pace, she felt only keen awareness of him.

Adrenaline roared with her heart rate in her ears, his punishing pace pushing her rapidly towards that precipice. His hand once more came down on the flesh of her arse, wrenching a cry from her throat as her vision blurred, his palm soothing the sting.

Draco leaned closer, one hand tugging the cup of her breast to the side and tweaking her nipple. He pressed in, drawing her into a searing kiss, his chest hot against her back.

With each snap of his hips, she felt herself slammed into the desk, dull pain mingling with the rush that threatened to overtake and drown her in the feel of him. His lips grazed her cheek, her jaw, her ear. He whispered, " _Come for me_."

And when his fingers found her clit, she was lost, crying his name as her orgasm crashed over her, blackening her vision. Wave after wave of pleasure coasted through her, and with a final few thrusts he followed her over the edge, a quiet, drawn-out groan escaping his lips as he sunk against her, stilling.

For a long moment, Hermione was aware only of the heavy rise and fall of her breathing, his skin heated and damp against hers as he suspended himself on the desk above her.

Then his lips brushed her cheek, lingering against her skin before he pushed back and withdrew from within her.

Sated and boneless, Hermione stayed stretched out atop the desk, feeling the gentle wash of his magic along her skin with contraceptive and cleansing spells. An absent smile lingered on her lips as she finally rose.

With a chuckle, Draco drew her skirt back down, fixing it in place and smoothing the fabric down her arse. She turned towards him, a smile still playing across her lips. He'd already donned his shirt, slipping his trousers on.

She couldn't see her knickers, and surmised he must have kept them. Every so often she found herself without, and while she knew he would have given them back to her if she asked, she had already expected him to want to keep _that_ particular pair.

Languidly, Hermione slipped the buttons of his shirt into place, reaching for his tie as he secured his belt. He rounded her, helping her into her own shirt one sleeve at a time.

He always liked to be sure she was proper. With practiced care, he fixed her shirt, his grey eyes sparkling as they lingered on hers while she straightened his collar and began securing his tie into place.

As she finished with the knot, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt in silence, she felt his stare linger on her. A gentle flush crawled up her neck at his intense scrutiny.

Once she was finished, Draco nodded, his expression blank but for the hint of a smirk.

"A productive meeting," he mused, eyes still heated as they held hers.

Hermione tittered, taking a step back. "Productive indeed. We'll have to do this again sometime."

It had become a habit early on, but they both already knew they would meet again.

His gaze dropped to the side, a slight furrow forming between his brows as he nodded. "Are you through with work?"

"Of course," she responded, frowning. "I was done at five."

"Right."

He knew she was off at five, because he knew her concession to seeing him at work was that they never meet during paid hours.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he nodded again.

Feeling uncertain with the sudden awkward air between them, Hermione pressed her lips into a thin smile. "See you, then. Friday?"

"Friday is fine," Draco said quietly. He turned towards the door, but stopped, swivelling his face back towards her. He drummed his fingertips on the surface of the desk. "I'm quite hungry."

Hermione blinked at him, confused. "It _is_ nearly dinner time."

"Right," he murmured, his throat bobbing with a swallow. "I only—you know. I thought I might go out somewhere to eat."

With a sharp intake of breath, she frowned, the skin around her eyes tightening. "What are you—"

"If you're hungry," he added. "Come along?"

They never saw one another outside of their pre-arranged meetings, and certainly never in public. It had simply been an unspoken agreement between them since the first time they had fallen into one another's arms.

But something shone behind the grey in his eyes. Something open and honest—something vulnerable.

Blowing out a breath, she held his stare, feeling her heart begin to race for a different reason.

Then she allowed a smile to lift her lips, with a quiet, "I could eat."

The relief that danced in his eyes awoke something entirely new within her, inciting thoughts of _more_.


End file.
